


This Is What I Came For

by empires



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future, Alternate Universe - Space, M/M, Space Opera, Speculative fiction, scifi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-07
Updated: 2016-08-07
Packaged: 2018-07-29 21:01:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7699207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/empires/pseuds/empires
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jason Todd is a newly registered cadet in the United Planetary League Exploration Force. He has 32 hours left as his own man, and there's just one thing he's after: good memories.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Is What I Came For

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the first kiss prompt from JayDick Week 2. There were so many wonderful fics coming out from that time. This community is awesome!

After completing the final barrage of testing, Jason receives an injection at the top of his spine. The small procedure is more than the standard process of connecting him to the garrison’s neural network. It's a welcome before the formal announcements, a sign that he is now part of something greater than he’d ever known.

It’s not until he redresses and returns to his room that Jason decides to test it out.

The bedding crinkles beneath his weight as Jason sits at the edge, hand raised. All it takes is a flicker of thought and Jason’s biometric data unfolds above his palm. The halo beams a flattering image of him—dark brown hair, piercing eyes that waver between land and sea, strong jaw, and a generous mouth pulled into a challenging grin. Prelim hadn’t quite managed to grind the confidence from him. His physiological characteristics scroll beside his picture, followed by his behavioral characteristics and his skills assessment outcomes and rankings. From his height to the whirls of his finger prints, his retinal data to the chemical composition of his spit, every bit of information is a testament to Jason’s tenacity. Glowing above it all is the most important classification identifying Jason as one of the United Planetary League’s newest cadets.

After a single tap against his wrist, the holo fades. Jason rises to his feet, beckoned by the soft glow from the window. Below, the garrison hums with activity. The buildings furthest from the garrison’s center are faintly lined with the bioluminescence from the planet’s Two-Hundred Waters. To the west, cradled in the shadows of the garrison training facilities rests Jumpura City, brightened by countless lights.

Jason’s eyes fall to the north where a red sun fades into the horizon spreading a wave of fire across the sky and illuminating the six towers stationed at the garrison spaceport. A small craft ascends the tri-colored sky heading unerringly to the stars. For a moment Jason imagines, like he did so often as a child, the pull of gravity on his body and the release that comes once you’ve pushed past the planetary atmosphere, the knowledge that you are inescapably free.

The craft soon disappears yet the yearning in his chest grows, and Jason allows the awe that he could not indulge in when he sat in the medical bay.

His journey has been one that would make him that pilot, to take a ship into the unknown. In thirty-two hours, he’ll emerge from this room as 01-36, Cadet Todd, pilot class, set on an aspiring course to become a UPL Commander. His dreams of leading a squadron to protect exploratory vessels as they wander the deepest reaches of space are about to come true. He'll be a part of the search for knowledge bearing.

But before those thirty-two hours are over, there are a few things Jason needs to accomplish.

 

* * *

 

The bouncer waves Jason onto a platform suspended above a sea of people grinding to an asynchronous musical beat. Although Jason is a familiar figure in certain bars around Jumpura, he's never been to this club. The scene has never been his with its promise of augmented connects and tightly pressed bodies. But he gamely joins the crowd tonight.

He makes his way to the floor noting numerous people wearing the UPL’s storm gray colors. Their uniforms are accented with the silver threading along the left shoulder indicating they are also cadets. It’s an academy tradition for each incoming class to enjoy their last hours of freedom to the fullest before the session begins and Jason is no different. He mingles with the crowd chatting with cadets he knows and offering congratulations to the ones who made it through like he did. But it’s not the kind of company he was looking for, and Jason separates himself after a while, heading to the bar as the others take to the dance floor.

The drink specials splash into existence before him, but Jason’s not interested. He catches one of the bartender’s eyes and says, “Give me something I’ve never tasted before.”

What returns to him is a drink that’s smoking and colorful, completely different from the malted grains of his colony. That’s what he’s looking for tonight—something new. A way to make some memories that will carry him through the next phase of his training. Jason spies different leaning over the edge of a balcony. Even distorted by the flashing lights, the guy is gorgeous sporting careless good looks found only in promovids. Jason hears his laughter floating between the music adding a bit of joy to the recklessness edging the night. He’s in the midst of a small crowd people, laughing, smiling, non-cadets, which is exactly what Jason wanted.

Screwing up the courage is easy as downing his drink. Jason slams the glass onto the bar with a hiss. A deep heat immediately seeps into his skin. He sets off taking the stairs two at a time before the burst of confidence leaves him.

Fortunately, the guy is still leaning against the thin railing when Jason reaches the balcony. The small group that had surrounded him disappeared during Jason’s brief trip. It’s better this way. Less witnesses to see Jason’s inevitable crash and burn. He straightens the uniform tunic and smooths his dark hair away from his forehead.

“Excuse me,” Jason says, reaching up to tap his moment of freedom on the shoulder. The man turns and every pitiful word Jason had considered on the way here fizzles leaving him as lost as a ship with a malfunctioning navboard.

Gorgeous is too small of a word to fit the man. Gorgeous doesn’t describe the warmth radiating from his tanned skin. It doesn’t capture the strength resting just below his causal stance. And it doesn’t begin to explain the depth in eyes so blue Jason instantly recalls the twin ice bands ringing the Helanthrip’s fabled skysea or the softness hinted in the curve of his soft, pink mouth when smiles at Jason and says, “Yes?”

Jason manages to return it with a smile of his own. “Sorry. I was just wondering if you’d like to dance.”

“That’s different.” He says with a laugh that’s warm and gentle.

“Is it?” asks Jason, not quite understanding the humor.

“Lately it’s just been. You know. The old tap and smack.” With a quick flip of his finger, the guy flashes his holodata. “Go ahead.”

Jason taps his wrist extending his own information. The guy takes one look at it and frowns.

“You shouldn’t flash your bioregistry like that, uh, Jason,” he says, eyes lingering on the silver threading Jason’s shoulder before he flicks a finger along the holofeed. “Cadet Todd, huh? I thought you guys knew this info is considered classified. At least with civilians.”

“Yes. But I thought that’s what you were sharing your identification. I mean.” He nods toward the flickering image that reads  _Last Name_ : G,  _First Name:_ Richard, _Prefers:_  Call me Dick. “What are we trading then, Dick?”

“This is the latest compatibility matrix. You swap feeds and find out if your interest can go somewhere.” Dick looks him up and down again and cocks an eyebrow so knowing Jason forcefully wills the blush from his face.

“But I guess you wouldn’t know that if you’ve just made into the garrison. Number thirty-six in your graduating class.” Dick whistles, continuing to read through Jason’s data. “That’s impressive. Really impressive. I heard this garrison took in over eight thousand cadets this round.”

For a guy who seems to think Jason’s data should be classified, Dick’s engrossed in it. His eyes scan over the details and that lush mouth works quietly while he reads. Jason can’t bring himself to point it out because what if Dick stops leaning in close?

“And you’re a space ace, huh? We see a lot of you aces partying through this side of town between missions. Going to pilot UPL battle vessels? Titan-classed MEKA?” Dick grins at him, teasing like he’s heard all this before, and Jason can only duck his head and shrug because the answer is yes, yes he’s willing to fly whatever they put in front of him and then go out and conquer the next.

“Let’s check your aptitude if you’re not going to share.” Dick says, flipping to the next screen. “Ranked. Holy Habanero.” He glances up, eyes strangely guarded. “Your flight analysis has you ranked as first in your class. That’s.”

“That’s just a number,” Jason says, firmly. “I’m not here to talk about my placement scores.”

Dick looks at him from beneath sooty lashes, head tilted, jaw tight. “Did someone send you up to talk to me?”

“No? I was just down at the bar, looked up and saw you.”

“Really?” Dick’s blue eyes have clouded with suspicion and Jason doesn’t want that.

“Yes. I heard you laugh and I thought about how the next two years are going to be following someone else’s orders. Sucking down someone else’s commands and making them my own. And after that, well, it’s going to be my whole life. So tonight I just want to be my own man for the last time. Make some good choices. Maybe see if I can get you to laugh again like that. It’s the kind of sound I want to remember.” Jason’s confession is met with silence.

Dick’s gaze is far away suddenly, and Jason likes that even less. He misses the teasing gleam already, the curiosity there, the way Dick’s eyes blazed when he called Jason a “space ace”. Jason realizes he’s said too much and pushes back to a respectable distance. He straightens into something like parade rest.

“Sorry. You didn’t need to hear all that. But still, I want to know if you do?”

“If I do?” Dick’s brows draw up and he’s back with Jason again. “Do I what?”

Jason chooses to think it means something that Dick hasn’t walked away “Want to dance with me. I’m terrible,” he warns. “But I think we could have a good time. Whatever you’re thinking, yes is the answer.”

Jason extends a hand to Dick along with a crooked smile that only brightens when, after another brief hesitation, Dick takes it into his own.

“Okay, Ace. One dance.”

It seems like ten thousand bodies are dancing with them, a million other cadets taking advantage of their garrison sanctioned leave. Graduating from recruit to cadet is a long journey and the carousing celebrations take on a wild, desperate press that would take Jason under if he hadn’t met Dick. Dick who smiles when Jason stumbles against him, who places a hand on his hip and slides close nudging him with gentle rolls until Jason finds the beat. Jason learns that Dick is great at dancing. He has an awareness of his body, an understanding of how to move and he drags Jason along for a ride he’ll never forget.

The music slides into a throbbing, melodic groove and Jason relaxes enough to slide his arm around Dick. He trails fingers down the length of his spine and presses a hand flat against the small of Dick’s back bringing them even closer. Dick only looks up at him with those electric blue eyes and Jason’s heart starts to pound in his chest. A million people may surround them, but Dick is the only one he sees.

One dance lasts for hours. In between finding new rhythm on the dance floor and grabbing refreshing drinks at the bar, Jason learns a little about Dick. He’s an Earthling although he’s lived in Jumpura City since childhood, coming to the outpost during the Seventh Wave. Dick enjoys the symbiotic relationship that comes from residing near an installation dedicated to peaceful exploration. The garrison’s presence and the pristine spaceport means there’s always vessels coming in from all points between Helios, the home system, and the league-affiliated planets in between, and Dick likes that he’s part of a nexus of people and ideas. He likes hot things, the sun, spices, people, and explains what a habanero is when Jason asks, which leads to a winding description of Dick's memories from Earth. Jason has seen vids, read texts about the home planet, but nothing has felt as real as listening to Dick's quiet voice describe the place from which all humanity once lived.

Jason doesn’t like to talk about himself, but he likes the shiver that passes through Dick’s body when he whispers against his ear, so he makes an effort describing the better parts of colony life. But he doesn’t mention the colony’s name and Dick either doesn’t realize or doesn’t care. Instead, Jason talks about the sprawling city nestled on an ocean moon, how the stars are always visible in the sky, even during the day. He talks about the first time he saw a ship shoot into the sky, the roar of boosters and the flash of heat that whipped down the colony trade post and the rockets sent the ship sailing up, up and away. That's when Jason knew. That's the moment he dedicated himself to becoming a pilot, and no matter what happened after, no matter his struggles, Jason's here now.  

Back on the center of the floor Jason and Dick twine and curve into each other as the music threatens to take them higher. Their feet shift and their bodies slot together in perfect harmony when the music slows and the lights roll over them like raindrops. Dick’s arms slide over Jason’s shoulders and his head tilts up until they’re cheek to cheek. Jason hears the way Dick’s breath slows, feels the vibrations as Dick hums along to a song he’s never heard before.

Jason’s hair falls from its garrison approved wave to hang over his forehead, much to Dick’s consternation. His long fingers continuously thread through the dark strands and rake them back from Jason’s face while they sway together like sweethearts. Jason folds fingers around Dick’s hand and presses his lips against Dick’s knuckles.

“Can I buy you another drink?”

“That’s not what you want to ask me,” Dick says in knowing tone that’s far too breathless to be chiding. It’s true. That’s not what Jason had wanted to ask at all.

“Can I kiss you?” Jason asks in the quite space sheltering only them.

“Yes,” Dick whispers and that simple word has never sounded so good. “But only one. One kiss. One more drink. One more dance and then—“

The chirp of a communication node interrupts him.

Dick cuts his eyes back to Jason hesitating, maybe, waiting for Jason to make a move. He takes another chance and leans in carefully tilting Dick’s chin up before pressing their lips together. The start is so quiet, so gentle and Jason aches from that unexpected pleasure drawn from one small action. He’ll even admit to sighing when Dick’s lips part opening the kiss to the taste of him, wet and sweetly soured, opening himself to press against the full length of Dick’s body, and Jason wonders, thumb skating along his jaw, how one man can be so  _open_.

The communication node chirps again. Somehow the sound blares over the music, the exuberant shouts, the sound of Jason’s heartbeat struggling. Dick pulls away with a moan that sends Jason’s blood spiraling downward. He taps the band on his left wrists and says, “Grayson,” which must be what the “G” stands for. Dick’s eyes narrow suddenly and they stop moving, a lonely island in a shifting sea.

“Wait a minute. Wait a minute, Vic. I can barely hear you. Let me get out of this place.” Dick spins on his heel and heads for the door. But he hasn’t let go of Jason’s hand and that’s enough to make him trot behind Dick.

The night air feels cool and damp on the skin. Jason closes his eyes and lets the sensation wash over him. He squeezes Dick’s hand gently. Smiles a little when he feels one in return.  

“Yeah, no. It’s best if we get them back to the tower. Yeah. Never any worries with us, man.” Dick sighs. It’s a grief-filled sound that urges Jason to open his eyes and try to find whatever can bring this man down and shoot it out of the skies.

Dick offers a quick shake of his head when he notices Jason watching then dives back into the talk with his friend. “Yes you are. The best part of you always will be. You too but we can just hug this thing out in a few minutes, you know.”

He ends the comm with a quick, “Grayson offline,” which sounds crisp with garrison polish. Turning back to Jason, he offers a rueful smile.

“My friends are headed for the jetties. I’m sorry, Jason. I have to go.”

“I could walk you to the transport if you want,” says Jason.

“That’s not necessary. No really.” Dick raises a hand forestalling Jason’s protests. “I’m a big boy. I can make it home safely.”

Jason takes a deep breath. “Okay. Okay. Then I’ll just say good night. And thank you.”

“Thank you? You can’t possibly be that….” Dick looks away and when his eyes return to Jason’s they’re different, darker, hesitant. “You don’t mean that.”

Jason lets his fingers splay along Dick’s wrist testing the pulse jumping beneath the fine skin. He brings Dick’s hand to his lips and kisses the saltiness embedded in Dick’s fingertips and the sensitive lines of his palm. “I mean it, Dick,” he says, voice husky. “Thank you.”

He's half afraid that Dick, this beautiful stranger, this moment in time, is some apparition, a product of too much time spent alone meeting too much alcohol. But Dick feels real beneath his hands. The tickle of the short hairs at the nape of his neck, the soft breath as his lips part when Jason steps into him, the shiver in his voice when he moans, "yes," to Jason's quiet request. Their mouths meet in a second kiss. There's no music, no bodies, just Jason and Dick in the darkened street, mouths parting, hot and wet, and the quiet sounds traded between them. Dick pulls away with a gasp, eyes fluttering open to stare at Jason with haunted eyes. He traces Jason's lips with his fingers, the ones still wrapped around Jason's, and maybe Dick is feeling the same way, wondering if what's happening between them can be real.

“You’re something else.” Dick’s voice is barely there when he speaks, the restraint threaded through close to the breaking. “I've. Look."

"Got some people waiting for you," Jason says. "I know. Not trying to stop you." It's just hard to let go.

Dick nods pulling away slightly. "Good night and stay safe out there.”

“I will if I’m coming home to you.” The words leave Jason’s mouth without his permission, but they’re no less true. He thinks he could do a lot knowing Dick would be waiting for Jason. Not someone like him, but him with those blue eyes and soft mouth and the catch in his breath when Jason says something unexpected, like now. Dick squeezes his hand once before letting go.

“Get out of here, Ace and keep your eyes on the stars. They’re the only thing that’ll guide you home,” he says and it sounds like a passage from a long text, an ending.

Jason nods once, curtly, and steps back again to maintain that respectful distance. “I’ll think about you all the time. The one that got away.”

Dick’s laughter is soft but delighted. Jason grins, glad he’s able to hear it one last time. “Goodbye,” Dick says, then walks into the misty Jumpura streets. His figure slowly fades, bleached by the city lights and the curving road, but Jason doesn’t imagine that pause or the look back.

“Cadet Todd,” Dick shouts. “Find me next time you have sanctioned leave. You still owe me one more drink.”

“You got it,” Jason calls back. His grin colors every word, but it doesn’t matter. His own node chirps once notifying him of a new contact, Dick G. The feeling in his breast is something like flying.

 


End file.
